Lady in Bed enters stage right and the show begins…
This blog is all about my show, Lady in Bed, which is currently playing at the New Wimbledon Studio Theatre in London until March 7, so it would be wise to get your skates on re buying a ticket for this particular run. The play is written and performed by myself, Alison Goldie and is an erotic odyssey, a series of stories about my love-life since I was 14 years old, with all of the parts enacted by yours truly. I am very proud of the show and want the world to see it. It’s not stadium fodder though, so I’ll have to accrue my gigantic audience in small-venue sized clumps, over time.
I’ve done 2 nights at Wimbledon now, playing in the same dear little theatre where The Weird Sisters, my company (with Kath Burlinson) did two of our shows from a few years back, Loveplay and The Weird Sisters Get Around. You might be detecting a bit of a theme in my work. I do write about lurve a lot, and sexual business. It’s my favourite area of human endeavour. Who doesn’t love a love-story? And if you can stick some talking animals in there, and mercilessly cariacature some ex-lovers…Now, that’s a show I’d like to see. What a pity I’m in it.
The mates have been turning up to support me (thank you, all). One of the great things about being an actor who puts on her own work in theatres all over the place is that friends will turn up in the bar afterwards (me not having seen them in the audience owing to the brightness of the lights in my eyes) who I haven’t seen for donkey’s years, and cover me in kisses, affirming me and making me feel loved. Which is the main reason for being an actor after all.
There were some unidentified young people in the audience last night. I wish they’d stayed to chat cos I’d love to know what they thought of a 48 year old bird dashing about the stage talking about sex and drugs, and yes, rock n’ roll. It might have been like watching your mum doing same. Or perhaps my insouciance, irreverence and other words ending in ‘nce’ distracted them from my maturity. It’s not like I don’t tell them me age, and anyone younger wouldn’t have had so much material, but small-scale/fringe theatre can often seem a young person’s game, and folk like me don’t benefit from ‘grants for emerging artists’ or seminars on ‘networking for the new millenium’. I’m supposed to have moved into producing, or breeding pugs.
I mustn’t sit here writing for long. I need to get into the stuff that actresses do when they have a show in the evening: calling my agent to get the champagne on ice in the dressing room, exfoliating my entire lustrous body, chanting whilst communing with my chakras, eating a nutritionally balanced seaweed-based meal created by Marcel, my personal chef, hopping in the limo…yeah right, it’ll be more like a quick catnap and a granola bar for dinner then off on the tube to Wombledon.
If you can’t get to Wimbledon Studio, watch out for Lady in Bed at the Devon Fringe in June!
And there’ll be more…